


Stay

by camelotsheart



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arthur comes back to life, Because we need more happy merthur, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Multi, and a bit of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26581282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camelotsheart/pseuds/camelotsheart
Summary: What if, when Merlin covered Arthur's forehead with his palms for the last time, he whispered a spell that changed everything?This Merlin, like the one we know, remembered another thank you, one said from friend to friend, from a soul that had died and lived twice and then died again. But unlike ours, this Merlin didn't trust the words of a dying dragon and thoughtI will see him again. He didn't lift his hands and mutter "Arthur," before stopping himself because he believed --hadto believe -- that he would be able to say whatever he had to say when they met once more, no matter how far it was in the future, no matter how long he had to wait.When Arthur died, Merlin's faith in promises, words and oracles died with him. Instead, he focused on the present, on the painful coolness of the skin beneath his palms, on things left unsaid, lives taken too quickly -- andwished.
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 114





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mischel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mischel/gifts), [nonsensicatty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonsensicatty/gifts), [your-time-is-now](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=your-time-is-now).



> This fic was inspired by a tumblr post made by your-time-is-now, and was further added onto by nonsensicatty and Mischel. The post is linked below. The fic does not do justice to the amount of feels regurgitated by the post, but I've tried my best to make it worthy. 
> 
> https://magicalmischel.tumblr.com/post/629814865451728896/nextstopparis-nonsensicatty

What if, when Merlin covered Arthur's forehead with his palms for the last time, he whispered a spell that changed everything? 

This Merlin was just a little bit more broken, a little bit more skeptic, had a little bit more spite towards the forces that had dangled the hopes of a destiny in his face and never told him that it was all a lie.

This Merlin, like the one we know, remembered another _thank you_. One said from friend to friend, from a soul that had died and lived twice and then died again. But unlike ours, this Merlin didn't trust the words of a dying dragon and thought _I will see him again._ He didn't lift his hands and mutter "Arthur," before stopping himself because he believed -- _had_ to believe -- that he would be able to say whatever he had to say when they met once more, no matter how far it was in the future, no matter how long he had to wait.

When Arthur died, Merlin's faith in promises, words and oracles died with him _._ Instead, he focused on the present, on the painful coolness of the skin beneath his palms, on things left unsaid, lives taken too quickly -- and _wished._

(It didn't matter that he knew Arthur would only open his eyes for a short while; perhaps giving Merlin nothing but a smile or a fond and exasperated ' _Mer_ lin'. He just wanted, wanted _something_ \-- _anything_ \-- and in this world that desperation was enough to do the impossible.)

In one world, Merlin's magic would guide him to say " _rest in peace,"_ and that spell would ensure that the king slept until Albion needed him most. 

In this world, Merlin would say " _stay with me,"_ a repetition of a desperate plea in another language -- the language of miracles and impossibility -- and in this world, magic answered him too.

The first thing he felt was the wrinkling of a forehead, then the sound of a gentle breath, and then the slow flicker of eyelids.

"Merlin," muttered Arthur, and hearing that voice broke Merlin all over again. Tears he thought had run out prickled their way to the corner of his eyes, and he let out a small sob; because there was Arthur; breathing, speaking, _living._

And it was that thought that did him in. Merlin surged forward -- forgetting for that split second all the expectations of the world and what he could and could not do, all the boundaries they never crossed, voicing all the silent acknowledgements they had built through the last two days -- and kissed Arthur.

Everything was perfect for that one moment where it was just the two of them. Two people wronged by destiny, two people who had tried and tried and tried and made mistake after mistake, two people who failed to tread the fate they were supposed to fulfil. Here they were no longer King of Camelot and Emrys; how could they, when the path they stood on was littered with the shattered hopes of the people they were supposed to lead? Now, in this bubble where the living met the dead, where magic met man, they were just two people beside a lake -- just Merlin and Arthur.

And then there was the moment after that, where he remembered everything else; remembered Camlann and Camelot and Gwen -- oh god, _Gwen_. "Arthur," he said while pulling away. "Arthur, I'm so sorry--"

"It's fine," he said, and Merlin distantly remembered himself saying the same thing when Gwen had kissed him many years before. "Merlin--"

"No, you've done enough talking. Now's my turn," cut Merlin, because his moment with Lancelot had only lasted a few seconds. Arthur gave Merlin a peculiar look as he lifted himself to a sitting position and caused the boat to rock. Merlin gulped, trying to anchor himself. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you. Someone told me you're going to be raised from the dead sometime in the future when Albion's need is greatest, and even though I doubt it's true, I'll wait for you anyway. And--" 

He cut off before he could dig himself deeper; remembering Gwen, remembering all that still was and all that he could not wish.

But he was tired. Far, _far_ too tired. Tired of hiding, tired of secrets and bowing to a world that pushed him around like a puppet. He wanted so badly to just let everything spill out; every single feeling brewing in his veins for the longest time.

It took all the shreds of his tattered will to hold it all in. For Gwen, if not for anyone else.

" _Till death do us part_ ," recited Arthur, looking at Merlin with the same expression he had in his last moments. _I know,_ _I'm sorry,_ _thank you_ and so many more thoughts left for darkness. They could have voiced them if they had been selfish enough, and none of them were. At least not until now, apparently. "That was part of the vow."

Merlin shook his head. "You and Gwen would have survived death, too."

"We would," Arthur agreed, "but that's not what's going to happen, is it?"

Because Gwen had responsibilities. Gwen would learn to love another just as Arthur could have learned to love Mithian a few years ago. 

In the end, it was Arthur who broke first. "I love you," he said, and it sounded strained, careful, nervous. "Although you probably already know."

Merlin scoffed, because that was a major understatement for everything that had gone on for the past two days.

"I love you too, prat," he returned, and then in a quieter voice: "and much more than that."

They stared at each other, going back to those moments where they had done the same thing over the years, speaking without sound, caring without touch, a flower blooming in silence and shadows.

"I would kiss you, but I don't think you'd like me dying mid-kiss," said Arthur, because he was the furthest thing from a romantic.

"I'd like you not dying at all," Merlin muttered.

"Right. So how much time do I have left?" Arthur asked, and Merlin frowned at that. His time with Lancelot had not lasted this long. 

Something like hope bloomed in his chest, and he tried his hardest to squish it down, but it was so monumental, so miraculous, that he couldn't. 

"I... I don't know," answered Merlin while offering a silent prayer. _Let him stay. We've lost so many things. At least give us this._ "It didn't last this long the last time..."

Arthur seemed to notice the waver in his voice for what it was, and he told Merlin, "come on the boat." Merlin gingerly shuffled up, careful not to tip them over. Once he was fully aboard, Arthur brought their foreheads together and said, "maybe if we wish hard enough, it'll come true."

And they kissed, forgetting what they did not want to happen, forgetting everything else other than soft breaths and fingers brushing across tear-streaked cheeks. 

And when the moment did not seem to stop, Merlin carded his fingers through Arthur's hair and _pulled,_ wanting a response to remind him again and again and again that Arthur was here, that this would last beyond the waters of the lake, and that Merlin would never let him get away again.

Arthur moaned softly into his mouth and pulled away, breathless, and Merlin couldn't resist pressing a kiss to his ears and whispering, "you're real."

"I am," said Arthur after a shaky breath, turning his head to brush his lips against Merlin's forehead. "And I'm here to stay."

There were so many things they would have to do, so many things that could go wrong after this. But for now, they were only two people beside a lake with no destiny or kingdom to burden them. They could have this. Just for a moment they could exist in this heaven -- a reprieve from the weight of the world on their shoulders.

(Years later, Merlin would walk the streets of Camelot with his king and remembered how he had thought, _or maybe I could turn the world into heaven,_ and smiled.)


End file.
